


Playing Therapist

by idrilhadhafang



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Crack, Dark Comedy, Dark Crack, Kylo Ren Has Issues, M/M, Movie: Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Neither The Murder Nor Snoke Being A Dick Are What’s Funny, Parody, Past Murder, Poe Dameron Is So Done, Snoke Being a Dick (Star Wars), Training from Hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:26:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28633224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilhadhafang
Summary: Unknowing of Kylo’s true identity as Ben Solo, Poe’s old love, Poe ends up playing temporary therapist to Kylo. Of sorts.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Ben Solo, Poe Dameron/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Poe Dameron/Kylo Ren
Kudos: 10
Collections: Allbingo, Bad Day Collection, Star Wars Crack





	Playing Therapist

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Crackfic
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author’s Notes: I think I’m going to hell now...

To say that Poe Dameron was bored was putting it mildly.   
  
Yeah. Bored. When he was being abducted — was being bored part of being kidnapped and handcuffed in...stars knew what part of the shuttle? Kylo Ren’s shuttle. Outside Poe’s room, one of the stormtroopers was humming...something.   
  
Then again, Poe supposed that was one thing he couldn’t blame the stormtroopers for that.   
  
(And meanwhile, he was stuck on a shuttle with a guy who had killed Lor San Tekka for trying to help him, as well as killed villagers who were just going about their lives and probably had no idea what a “map to Skywalker” was. At least BB-8 got away with the piece of the map. Stars, the bar was that low...)  
  
Footsteps. Then the door opened, and Kylo Ren did something surprising: he squatted next to Poe in the room where Poe was currently holed up.   
  
“Is this gonna be like a thing?” Poe said. “I’m thirty-two, you know. I’m not a kid.”  
  
“Still,” Kylo said. “You should be grateful. I can’t say that many people have...would you call them squatting privileges?”  
  
"Why won’t you take your mask off?”  
  
"It’s...” Kylo actually seemed to be at a loss for words in that moment. “It’s for aesthetic purposes. Of course, Snoke never approved of it either.”  
  
"Huh.”  
  
“I don’t know why I’m still following him,” Kylo said. “He’s remarkably stupid and sadistic. He thinks that dangling me over sharp rocks is a perfect way to teach me about the Force.”  
  
“Stupid and sadistic sounds right.”  
  
“And he wears gold robes,” Kylo said. “Gold! I don’t know how much gold glitter was sacrificed to make that monstrosity...”  
  
“That’s...something.” Why was Poe even playing therapist to a guy who killed Lor San Tekka and ordered villagers murdered? Honestly.   
  
“And he never. Stops. Taking lines out of the Cliché Evil Villain Handbook. If I hear him sneering about snuffing about hope again, I will probably k — oh, never mind.”  
  
Poe raised an eyebrow. “Of all your offenses, you want to kill him because he sounds like a cliché evil villain?”  
  
“You don’t understand!” Kylo lamented. “He won’t stop doing it!”  
  
Poe sighed. “Okay, weird murdering mask guy...you could just surrender to the Resistance. We can help.”  
  
“Yes,” Kylo said wryly, “I’m sure that they’d be very happy to see me. Including M — General Organa.”  
  
Poe furrowed his brow. Then, “The Resistance isn’t too bad. I mean, General Organa’s generally pretty accepting of...differences. She’ll treat you better. Well, maybe she’ll quote lines from the Cliche Hero Handbook, but that’s an improvement...”  
  
The silence between them was, to say the least, spectacularly awkward.   
  
“When I crush the Resistance, be assured I will show mercy on you,” Kylo said.   
  
“Um, thanks?”  
  
“May you be resistant to flames.”  
  
Poe still didn’t know what to think even as Kylo got back up and stalked back to the cockpit.


End file.
